


the break

by meritmut



Series: i loved you well, when we were young [11]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-30
Updated: 2015-05-30
Packaged: 2018-04-01 23:34:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4038886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meritmut/pseuds/meritmut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki takes the throne; Sif takes up arms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the break

“I won’t ask you again,” she murmurs when they’re alone, the softness of her voice at odds with the iron in her gaze. “Let me bring him home.”

Pale fingers tighten around Gungnir as he leans forward in the great chair to appraise her, his lip curling as if he had expected more from her. The rebuttal, when it comes, is smooth enough to almost seem rehearsed.

“It is not for either of us to go against the king’s wishes. And he wished Thor gone.”

 _Almost._ She would be naive to believe anything less of him.

There’s a momentary pause in which Loki can see her weighing her next words, calculating the risk of stoking his ire before she goes ahead and issues her challenge anyway - and ought it surprise him that one as fearless as Sif might speak so recklessly before the throne, even if it meant bringing the wrath of its incumbent down upon herself? “To which king do you refer, my lord?" She eyes him boldly, one dark brow raised. "The one that lies abed, unable to rescind his judgment - or the one that sits before me now, un _willing_?”

“There is but one king in Asgard this day.” And he is on his feet now, knuckles taut and white as if to let the merest breath of space between his hand and the spear would be to relinquish control of a situation fraught with tension, a battleground as real as any Sif has ever known. She does not intend to challenge Loki’s right to the throne, when no other is present to hold it, but she can and will – and _must_ – defy this ruling of his to leave his brother in exile.

Finally, she nods acquiescence. “And my king has spoken. I will not ask again.” Still she holds his gaze, the corner of her mouth twitching in the tiniest of smirks that she knows he will interpret correctly, though she thinks she has never felt less like smiling in her life. Fists clenched at her side, Sif sets a fire in the heart of her love and lets it consume, lets whatever lay between they two burn to its roots and die because no matter what she feels - and she feels too many things in this instant to bear - she knows what’s right. She knows where her loyalty lies.

And she knows what she must do.

There is too much inside her as she walks away; too much to withstand when she knows his stare follows her from the room; when she can barely breathe for the anger and sorrow choking her lungs and clouding any rational thought but the one course open to her, and so as she leaves Loki's presence and makes the choice that will bring the blade of fate down to split the two of them asunder forever, it is easier by far to pretend that she feels nothing at all.

**Author's Note:**

> Another oldie. Past-me is kicking my arse with angst rn.


End file.
